


Dig Out Your Soul

by foxxing (gayfantasticfour)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, Pining, jb pining for jy, mentions of markjin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/pseuds/foxxing
Summary: "C'mon, Jaebum hyung, are you sure? What's wrong with you?He thinks he knows, but he doesn't want to say it. The name repeats over and over in his head; his mind providing an answer to a conversation he doesn't want to have anymore.Jinyoung being gone. That's what's wrong with me. " Jinyoung leaves for Nunbal filming and Jaebum can't stop sleeping in his room.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i've been MIA...life gets in the way of things u kno 
> 
> this is old, something i posted on twitter a while ago, but decided to post it 
> 
> dedicated to dragana, my other half, and to tina, who can finally read this on ao3 and not on twitter
> 
> <3

He keeps telling everyone that  _ it's not a big deal.  _ __  
__  
"Are you sure?" Youngjae asks for the millionth time, and Jaebum just sighs. He's been quietly sitting on the couch in their living room and staring blankly at the TV for the last two hours, minding his own business, which is what he wishes everyone else would do.    
  
Youngjae nudges him gently with an elbow, his eyes burning a hole into the side of Jaebum's face. "C'mon, Jaebum hyung, are you sure? What's wrong with you?"    
  
Closing his eyes, Jaebum drops his head against the back of the couch. "It's not a big deal."    
  
Another voice appears above him, and he opens his eyes to see Yugyeom's upside down face watching him from where he's leaning on the back of the couch. "You came out of his room again this morning."   
  
He tries to keep his face blank, but their maknae's vaguely smug look is making it really difficult. "And?"    
  
Whining, Yugyeom leans up off one of his arms to shove lightly at Jaebum's shoulder. He allows himself to be jostled, wishing that he could just jostle his way through the bottom of the couch and through the floor before dissipating into the universe. "C'mon, hyung."   
  
Jaebum just looks at him, wondering how he ended up with another punk ass little brother. "It's not. A big. Deal."   
  
"It seems like a big deal."    
  
He feels like he's going to scream. Being the leader means he has certain responsibilities, so it's easy for him to feel a little disconnected from them sometimes. It's much easier now than it was then—the years have seemed to fly by, and he talks more now, jokes around, dotes on and cares for his members like nobody’s business. But there's still a sort of loneliness that clings to him sometimes, and he wonders what the cause of it is; if the other members notice, or perhaps feel the same way. It bothers him in a way that's difficult for him to articulate because the seven of them have been practically shoved up each other's asses for the past two, three, four, five years. What about having six other people constantly in your personal space could make you feel lonely?    
  
"Earth to Jaebum," Youngjae says, and Yugyeom backs him up by flicking him in the forehead lightly.    
  
Jaebum pushes Yugyeom's hand away a little more roughly than he intends to, and he feels his face warm in a mixture of shame and anger at the hurt that flashes across the younger boy's face. "Sorry," he mumbles, and then he's shoving himself up off the couch and down the hallway to his room. He shuts the door a little harder than he intended, too, wincing when some of the pictures on the walls shake. His room is far enough down the hallway from the living room that, if Yugyeom and Youngjae are currently discussing the different sources of what his issue might be, he can't hear them.    
  
The room is blissfully silent, and dark where the setting sun from outside the window throws the shapes of the furniture in shadows across the floor. He lays down heavily on the bed, unable to close his eyes for long, and he finds himself staring at a spot in the ceiling.    
  
_ C'mon, Jaebum hyung, are you sure? What's wrong with you?  _ __  
  
He thinks he knows, but he doesn't want to say it. The name repeats over and over in his head; his mind providing an answer to a conversation he doesn't want to have anymore.    
  
_ Jinyoung being gone. That's what's wrong with me.  _ __  
  
He feels his chest tighten at the thought of it: Jinyoung's been gone for so long, it feels like he's never coming back. Which is ridiculous, he knows: Nunbal filming won't last forever, and in his heart he's more proud of their little Jinyoungie than he could probably ever put into words. But the absence, so noticeable and loud, digs itself into every inch of his skin like parasites.   
  
He can't pinpoint a where or a when it started, but he knows that it's been a while. At first it was just the two of them; they debuted first, and failed at it, though the failure feels subjective when Jaebum thinks of how blissful and sweet those couple of years alone with Jinyoung were. Then they were trainees again, with five other guys, and he didn't even know any of these boys well enough to remember their names at first, much less call them friends. But then their group was formed, and they were together all the time, which Jaebum had trouble adjusting to at first. They got closer and closer with each day that was spent shoulder to shoulder in the practice rooms, dancing until their legs gave out, and the days began to blur together until weeks turned into months without him noticing. And then, one day seemingly out of the blue, he noticed the way that Jinyoung's cheek dimples when he smiles.    
  
It's been years and he can't stop noticing.    
  
Frustrated, Jaebum flips over onto his stomach and buries his face in his arms. He thinks it's a little selfish of him--to want Jinyoung to himself, after they've all been a part of each other for so long, even though Jinyoung had belonged to him first. They're a family, self-created and growing stronger every day, and his feelings feel like pulling the bottom brick out of a game of Jenga. And that, too, feels arrogant to him: would it really be so upsetting if his feelings for Jinyoung were known, and possibly reciprocated? Would it really topple the stable home they'd all built out of each other? Probably not, but he's seen the way that Mark looks at Jinyoung, and how Jinyoung looks back at him. There's a chemistry there that Jaebum can't understand and will never be a part of; he's heard the maknaes gossiping with each other over the way that Mark and Jinyoung constantly spend alone time together out or in their rooms and quietly speculating if they’re together. Whatever it is, it seems to be working: no one talks about it, and they go about their daily lives and schedules as though nothing is wrong. He wonders if adding his feelings to the mix could cause them problems that they weren't really prepared for.   
  
Eventually, the constant circling of his thoughts makes him fall asleep, but he's woken up a couple hours later when his bedroom door opens. The light from the hallway spills across his face, and he squints sleepily at the shadow in the doorway.    
  
They reach in and flip on the light, and the sudden illumination hurts his eyes. When he opens them all the way after blinking rapidly, Mark is just watching him quietly, phone in hand. "It's Jinyoung," he says, and Jaebum can't decipher the tone of his voice. Tossing the phone on the bed, Mark says, "he wants to talk to you" before closing the door behind him.    
  
Anxiety, sudden and alive, hums in every line of his body as he picks up the phone. "Hello?"    
  
"Jaebum." Jinyoung's voice is deep and honey-sweet. He feels his joints turn to water and he drops back bonelessly to the bed. "How are you?"    
  
"I'm okay. Sleepy," He yawns for emphasis. "I was asleep. Mark woke me up."   
  
On the other end of the line, Jinyoung clucks his tongue in disapproval. "Aigoo. It's late, you shouldn't be napping, hyung."   
  
_ Hyung _ . The word drives a spike of conflicting pleasure and yearning into his chest. He can feel his breath hitch when he inhales and hopes that Jinyoung doesn't notice. "Ahh, it's nothing Jinyoungie. We don't have any schedules tomorrow." There's a distinct rustling sound on the other end instead of an answer, and Jaebum waits until Jinyoung hums in confirmation to ask, "what are you doing?"   
  
"Mm," he mumbles, and he sounds sleepy. He's heard that sleepy, molasses-thick voice a hundred million times but the sound of it still makes his heart contract. "I just got in bed. We were filming all day."    
  
The thought of Jinyoung curled up in his pajamas makes his heart beat a little faster. "Oh? How was it?"    
  
"Good. Cold," he laughs quietly. "I had to lay on the ground for a long time for them to get a shot, and I could feel it through my jacket."    
  
"Yah, don't get sick, Jinyoungie."    
  
Jinyoung's voice when he answers is a little slurred. "Are you worried about me, hyung?"    
  
He swallows. "Of course I am."    
  
"Mm," Jinyoung hums again. It’s quiet for a moment, and Jaebum is about to say goodnight when Jinyoung asks,  "What are you guys going to do tomorrow?"   
  
Jaebum shifts, getting more comfortable and curling up. "I think me and the guys are going to take Coco for a walk, go to the park. We might V-APP it. Other than that, I think we're just gonna sleep and hang around."    
  
"I'll have to watch it."    
  
He laughs quietly. "Yeah. If you can, you should. It'll probably be fun."    
  
"I miss you," Jinyoung says, his words running together like he'll fall asleep before he gets them all out.     
  
Jaebum swallows. A profound and unsteady loneliness threatens to drown him on his bed, and he closes his eyes. "We miss you too, Jinyoungie."    
  
"No," Jinyoung says, and Jaebum startles a little, his heartbeat stuttering. "I miss  _ you _ , hyung."    
  
Jaebum opens his mouth to reply, but he can't think of anything to say:  _ I miss you, hyung _ , is beating itself into his brain like a pair of fists, and one of his hands knots up in the blanket underneath him. What's he supposed to say?  _ I miss you, hyung.  _ __  
__  
"I know." it feels like a stupid thing to say, and he imagines Jinyoung's pouty face when Jaebum didn't say I miss you, too. He tries to abruptly change the subject. "Do you want to talk to anyone else?"   
  
Despite how tired he sounds, Jinyoung's reply is fast. "No. Goodnight, Jaebum."    
  
He manages to breathe out a nervous "Goodnight Jinyoungie," before the line disconnects. Sighing, Jaebum puts the now-dark phone down on his stomach, fisting the hand not in the sheets in his hair and pulling slightly. The pain is minimal, and the relief temporary, but he can at least think a little more clearly.    
  
Getting up, he finds his way into the living room where the other five boys are playing video games. Jaebum hands Mark his phone back, who takes it without looking at him. Bambam turns, handing his controller to Youngjae. "Did you talk to Jinyoung?"    
  
"Yeah," he replies, but doesn't elaborate.    
  
"I didn't get to talk to him," Bambam says, and pouts a little. Jaebum smiles, if a little sadly, and reaches over to ruffle his hair.    
  
"Me either," Yugyeom chimes in, big eyes focused on the flatscreen where he and Youngjae are playing a soccer game. "Did he fall asleep?"   
  
"Yes," Jaebum lies. "It was a long day on set, he said. Really cold."    
  
"Poor Jinyoungie," Jackson says, looking up from his phone. "I hope they're not working him too hard."    
  
Mark doesn't look up from where he's shoving the phone back in his front pocket of his jeans when he says, "they're not. It was just a long day, and he had to lay on the ground."    
  
Jaebum nods, and if anyone thinks the way Mark answered was weird, no one says anything. "Yeah, that's what he told me, too."    
  
Bambam turns back around, one hand on his knee as he bends almost all the way around to look at Jaebum where he's standing at the edge of the couch. "Do you wanna play?"    
  
"Nah," he says, and makes eye contact with Jackson before looking away quickly. "I'm gonna go to bed. Thanks though. See you guys tomorrow."    
  
There's a low chorus of good-nights at him, and it almost makes him smile how rehearsed it sounds.    
  


**

  
  
When he wakes up the next morning, Youngjae and Bambam are already dressed and almost on their way out the door. He's sitting up in bed, shirtless and his hair sticking up in all directions, when Bambam opens the door and starts laughing. "Jaebum hyung, are you still coming?"   
  
"Yeah," he says, deciding that getting out of the place that's imprinted with evidence of Jinyoung's lingering presence will be good for him. "Let me get dressed."   
  
"Wear a jacket," Youngjae says, face appearing next to Bambam's in the doorway. "It's cold outside."   
  
He gets up and shoos them away, their faces squishing together for a moment as Jaebum starts to close the door on them. He can hear them giggling as they go down the hallway, with Youngjae reminding Coco to not pee in the car again. The sound of it lifts his spirits a little, but he still feels so... _ empty _ . He's excited to be working on a new album, sure, and he's happy that they can relax for a while. But as he's pulling on his jeans, he realizes that, without Jinyoung, there's a fundamental uneasiness to everyone that makes him feel a little on edge. Maybe he's projecting, but he thinks Mark feels it too: it's easy for them to keep up pretenses in front of their brothers, but when the two of them meet in the kitchen or walk into a room at the same time, there's a tension in the air that he can't quite wrap his head around. He wonders idly if Mark knows how he feels about Jinyoung. Jaebum hasn't told anyone, and he isn't going to, but he wonders if, by some deeper intuition, Mark already knows.    
  
_ It doesn't matter _ , he tries to tell himself, and he opens his bedroom door while pulling on his shirt. The neck of it gets caught somewhere around his eyebrows, and he struggles to pull it down as he blindly makes his way down the hallway. Through fate, or bad luck, or divine intervention, he runs straight into Mark a mere split second after successfully pulling his shirt down over his face.    
  
"Shit, sorry," Jaebum says, and there it is again--that tension that he can't explain. Mark flattens his own shirt down and just looks at him, like he might be expecting a better apology. Jaebum is about to say something when Mark speaks up, voice quiet:    
  
"Are you okay?" he asks, and the question actually catches Jaebum off guard a little. The way he asks sounds more curious than it does genuine, and Jaebum feels guilty when there's a stab of suspicion in his gut. Mark’s dark eyes watch him, pinning him in place.    
  
"Yes," Jaebum says, and he hopes that not breaking eye contact is enough to convince Jaebum that he's not lying.   
  
It isn't. "I don't believe you."   
  
Sighing, Jaebum sags against the wall a little. "That's kind of unfair, isn't it? You asked."    
  
He looks away for a moment, hoping that the dongsaengs are out of earshot. Mark doesn't say anything right away, and after a few moments of silence, he finally looks back at him. There's a look to Mark’s features that's a little difficult for him to decipher: it looks sad, it looks a little angry, it looks a little pleading. The amount of emotion trying to show on Mark’s usually stoic face at once makes him kind of uncomfortable.    
  
"We miss him too, Jaebum."   
  
Jaebum starts. "What?"    
  
"Jinyoungie." The nickname sounds so natural, so at home coming out of Mark’s mouth. It makes his stomach hurt a little bit, jealousy squeezing his insides. "We all miss him. Not just you."    
  
His heartbeat kicks up a notch in his chest, and finally all of the looks and the tense awkwardness and the painful pinwheel of emotions on Mark’s face all the time makes sense: he does know. Mark knows, and Jaebum thinks he knows how Mark feels about Jinyoung, too, and now they both know each others' secrets without ever saying them out loud.   
  
He swallows but doesn't look away. "I didn't say you guys don't miss him."   
  
Mark’s jaw tightens, nostrils flaring visibly. He hates this. He hates it, because he loves Mark, he really does. He loves all six of them, how could he not? They've barely been without each other for more than ten minutes for years. Now that one of them has been gone for an extended amount of time, it's seemed to throw a wrench into their delicate functionality. If they can barely function without just one of their members, how are they going to function when they, inevitably, disband? He wonders how many of the members would rather die than see that day. The thought derails him for a moment, and he almost misses Mark’s reply.    
  
"So stop acting like you're the only person who's sad he's gone. Stop making a show of it."    
  
A show of it? He straightens, the two of them nearly identical in height so that when he leans in with his eyes locked on Mark’s in an anger he hopes is visible, they're equal. "I'm not making a show of it. In fact, I keep saying that it's not a big deal when someone asks what's wrong with me, and I've never said that it had anything to do with Jinyoung being gone." That's a flat out lie; it's exactly the reason, but he hopes he's angry enough that it's believable. " _ You _ made this about Jinyoung, so maybe  _ you _ should stop making a show of it."    
  
The angry look on Mark’s face intensifies, and for a split second Jaebum thinks Mark is  actually going to punch him. Instead, he makes a noise akin to one of disgust and stalks off, turning the corner and slamming the door to his bedroom so hard he can feel it in the floor. The noise is so loud that Youngjae and Bambam come around the corner, matching expressions of worry on their faces. He's relieved when it still makes him laugh a little.   
  
"What happened?" Bambam asked, struggling with a wiggling Coco in his arms. He passes her off to Youngjae, who has an equally hard time keeping her still and just puts her on the ground with a sigh of exasperation. She hops over to Jaebum, and she settles in comfortably when he leans down to pick her up.    
  
"Nothing," Jaebum says, laughing when Youngjae and Bambam both roll their eyes at the way Coco lays patiently across Jaebum's arm. "Mark’s upset."   
  
Youngjae's brow furrows. "About Jinyoung?"    
  
He nods, his brain supplying a response that he doesn't share. Among other things.    
  
"We miss him too," Bambam pouts, looking adorably younger when he does. "It's not just him. He can tell us, he knows that, right?"   
  
Jaebum feels like he's been hit in the stomach, and his smile drops from his face. It's so shockingly identical to the charged conversation he had with Mark that he wonders if they did hear it, but the twin looks of disappointed concern on their faces has him assuring himself they didn't.   
  
"You know how he is," Jaebum says quickly, hoping that neither of them noticed his abrupt change in expression. He nudges them both forward with the elbow not cradling Coco. "C'mon. Let's go."   
  


**

  
  
Once they all get to the park (minus Mark and Jinyoung which, even knowing that Jinyoung is somewhere else, the two of them missing at the same time still makes his insides feel sharp with jealousy), the staff decides they’re being too rowdy and they don’t broadcast it on VAPP. They even pass Coco off to the staff, letting them keep an eye on her while the five of them run around, shouting at each other and rough housing in the bitter cold. Their laughter blankets the air, warming it, but even the feeling of his closest friends as their hands touch or their bodies collide when they bring out the soccer ball isn’t enough to melt the block of ice in his chest at Jinyoung’s absence. 

They’ve been outside for hours when Jaebum decides to take a break, sitting down on the grass near where the van is parked and then dropping to his back. He looks up at the sky, the cold from the ground seeping up through his jacket and spreading until he can feel it in his bones. The dreary gray color of the clouds feels oddly fitting, and he’s in the middle of a sigh when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

He pulls it out carelessly, not sure who’d be texting him at the moment, and not really caring until he unlocks it and sees who it’s from.  
__  
From: Jinyoungie  
__    hyung, no VAPP today?  
  
His stomach feels hollow, followed by a flood of emotion to refill it and the sudden change makes him feel unsteady.

_ No,  _ he types back, hands shaking from the cold, or something else.  _ No VAPP today. Staff decided we were being too rowdy  _

It takes him a minute, but then Jinyoung’s reply appears:   
  
__ Ah, i was looking forward to it :( wanted to see your face, keke  
  
Something in his chest feels like it’s going to snap off and stab him through the heart. It’s always been this way with them: playful, cute, overtly friendly, which is why he doesn’t think he ever noticed it until he  __ noticed  it, and couldn’t stop noticing it, and it makes him wonder: which side of Jinyoung is the real one? The one who’s flirty, and cute, and playful? Or the one who casts glances sidelong, pulling Mark into another room, leaving quietly with him without saying goodbye? It’s not a competition, he knows––how Jinyoung feels is how Jinyoung feels, but it tears him in half to think that maybe he’s reading into it, assuming he has a chance where he doesn’t, Jinyoung’s actions meaning something different to him now that he’s viewing them through a different lens. 

_ Yah. You have pictures of me on your phone. Look at those _

Jinyoung’s reply is faster this time, like he’d been waiting.   _ It’s not the same, hyung _

Jaebum’s heart feels like it’s just going to stop, give up, go still in his chest. He doesn’t understand and he wishes he was the type of man who knew how to ask, but he’s not, so he just sends a  _?  _ instead.

He can practically hear the sigh in Jinyoung’s voice when he texts back.  _ I just miss you  _

_ When are you coming back?  _ The second time he’s avoided saying  _ I miss you, too,  _ even though he can feel the sentiment where it’s rooted inside his bones.

_ Sooner than you think. Gotta go _

Jaebum stares at the text message for a long time, Jinyoung’s voice in his head, chest hurting. The other boys; voices get louder, and he looks over to see them approaching with the staff like they’re ready to go home. He sits up, phone sliding back in his pocket where it feels heavy like the heart that beats sluggishly in his chest.

  
**

 

By the time they get back to the dorm, everyone is tired and ready for a nap. They don’t really talk to each other, mostly just mumbling sleepily as they all spread out and head to their rooms to strip down and get in bed. Jaebum hangs back, waiting until everyone’s doors are shut like they don’t all know he’s going into Jinyoung’s room anyway. He doesn’t even turn the light on, just slips in and lets the door shut silently, feeling his way toward Jinyoung’s bed by the wall with only the watery, grey light filtering in through the gap in the curtains to guide him. He hadn’t changed when he came in, going straight to Jinyoung’s room, but he takes his jacket off and hangs it neatly over the back of Jinyoung’s desk chair before laying down on top his covers with his clothes on.

Jaebum puts his hands under his head like a pillow and watches the light change from passing cars and the trees outside through the gap in the curtains, blinking slowly as his thoughts chase themselves around his head like a dog after its tail. Futile, it seems, but the thoughts still race, and he wonders how long it was going to take him before he realized he’s been in love with Jinyoung for years but never had the strength to admit it. Even now, it’s so hard, so hard to swallow all his feelings in favor of letting Jinyoung play out whatever it was between him and Mark, because as a leader and Jinyoung’s oldest friend it’s only right, to give him the space, to give him what he wants; what he deserves. Ask him a year ago and he would say _ I don’t care, Jinyoung can do what he wants _ while swallowing how he really feels and forgetting about it but if someone came in and asked, Jaebum, how do you feel? He would squeeze his eyes shut against the pain and say  _ I love him and I'm miserable.  _   
  
Eventually the thoughts wear themselves down to stumps and he falls asleep on his side, back to Jinyoung’s door and the strip of soft light falling across his eyes. He’s asleep for a long time, dreams of another life, a perfect one, with Jinyoung under his arm parading across his eyelids one after another. Jaebum’s so deeply asleep that he doesn’t hear the door open, or hear the way Jinyoung makes a soft noise of surprise and drops his suitcase to the floor. Jaebum only wakes when he feels a depress in the bed at the small of his back, and a pair of hands sliding up his shirt. 

Jinyoung’s hands are freezing, and Jaebum’s eyes open halfway as he inhales sharply at the ice cold touch against the warmth of his skin. One of his hands drops from his face to grab at the wrist of whoever is touching him, but as soon as his fingers touch the pulse point he knows who it is. His breath stutters, still holding Jinyoung’s wrist but not stopping him as Jinyoung slides his hand further up Jaebum’s shirt, coming to rest near his chest while the other is curled up between them at his back underneath the fabric. Jinyoung grunts softly as he tries to wiggle a thigh between Jaebum’s, and Jaebum blindly lifts a leg up so that Jinyoung can scoot closer to him and fit them together like puzzle pieces. He can tell Jinyoung is still wearing whatever he came home in, his jeans making a soft noise as he adjusts the leg he’d gotten between Jaebum’s thighs. Jinyoung’s nose is cold where it’s pressed to the back of his neck, and if it weren’t for the way the younger’s breath ghosts across his skin he’d be pretty sure he’s dreaming.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum says, voice low, and Jinyoung startles a bit. Jaebum’s hand tightens on Jinyoung’s wrist like he’s afraid he’ll pull away.

“Hyung? You’re awake,” Jinyoung says, lips dangerously close to the back of Jaebum’s neck, and he has to repress a shudder. Goosebumps erupt down his arms and legs instead. 

Jaebum doesn’t say anything, his heart beating uncomfortably hard, and Jinyoung’s hand is pressed so close to his chest that he’s sure the younger boy can feel it. 

A few moments of silence pass like this: Jinyoung pressed up against Jaebum’s back, one hand curled against his spine and the other pressed against his chest; thigh between Jaebum’s and Jaebum’s hand holding his wrist. When he breathes he can feel Jinyoung’s heartbeat against his back through his shirt and he kind of feels like dying.   


Finally, after what feels like hours, Jinyoung speaks. “You’re sleeping in my room, hyung.”

“I know.” 

Another heartbeat of silence passes. Then,

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Jaebum’s brows furrow even though Jinyoung can’t see it. “Tell you what?”   
  
“That you missed me.”

Oh. He swallows, fingers twitching on Jinyoung’s wrist like he’s going to let go. Jaebum is trying to think of something to say when he hears himself speak, “I didn’t know what to say.”

“‘I miss you’ would have been fine, I think,” Jinyoung says, and Jaebum can hear the smile in his voice but Jaebum can’t bring himself to smile back. 

He hates how much his voice shakes. “Jinyoung, I––”

Jaebum doesn’t get the chance to finish, because Jinyoung is leaning up on one arm and rolling him over with a hand on his shoulder until he’s on his back. Jinyoung positions himself above him, thigh still pressed between his own, hands resting on either side of Jaebum’s neck and holding his body up and away from Jaebum’s as he stares down at him. 

It’s hard to read the expression on Jinyoung’s face but Jaebum doesn’t care, he feels his breath leave him on a sigh when he realizes he’s finally seeing Jinyoung’s face in person. It feels like it’s been so long, though it’s really only been about a month or so, but Jaebum can feel every second of that month in the way his heartbeat shatters in his ears when he looks into Jinyoung’s dark eyes. He’s as beautiful as ever, thick eyebrows and his hair is longer, curling under his ears, cute and boyish. Jaebum’s heart squeezes, and he knows he shouldn’t but he reaches up to put his hands on Jinyoung’s hips anyway, sliding them up his sides before resting his fingers in the dips of his ribs. Jinyoung’s beautiful dark eyes flutter closed for a moment at the touch and Jaebum has to be dreaming, there’s no way this is real; no way Jinyoung’s sharp, handsome face is above him and looking into his eyes like he’s digging out Jaebum’s soul and holding it in the palms of his hands like he’s already been doing for so, so long. 

Jinyoung swallows. “I know how you feel about me, Jaebum.”

The words startle him, but the emotion that teeters on the edge of Jinyoung’s voice surprises him more. “I don’t think that you do.”

“Mark told me.”

And the moment ends, Jaebum’s heart cracking quietly with a hairline fracture and he drops his hands away from Jinyoung’s body to the bed. But Jinyoung doesn’t move, eyes still holding Jaebum’s where he’s holding himself up on his hands.

“I know how Mark feels about me, too.” 

“So do I,” Jaebum says, the words feeling heavy and sounding dull to his own ears.

“I’ve never had to break someone’s heart before,” Jinyoung says, his voice finally giving away some kind of emotion. The words come out soft, deadly, like dying in your sleep. Jaebum finally feels ready for Jinyoung’s first one to be his.   
  
Jaebum doesn’t say anything, just holds Jinyoung’s eyes, waiting for him to break his heart into the smallest of pieces that he knows he’ll never be able to put back together again. But then Jinyoung is dipping down, soft lips grazing the corner of Jaebum’s mouth when he places them against his ear and whispers,

“But Mark’s a big boy. He can handle it.”

And then Jinyoung is kissing him.

Emotion blooms in Jaebum’s chest when Jinyoung’s lips press against his, softer than they look, softer than they’ve ever been in the millions of dreams that Jaebum’s had of them. Jinyoung’s lips part on a sigh, an invitation in the sound, and Jaebum kisses back and licks gently into his mouth. Jinyoung’s whole body shudders when their tongues slide together, hands tightening in the sheets near Jaebum’s neck. The kiss deepens, Jinyoung getting rougher, sighing into his mouth when Jaebum’s hands go to his hips again. Jinyoung shifts his leg so that he’s pressing his body into Jaebum’s now, and pleasure floods him when their hips touch and they’re both half hard in their jeans. They don’t stop kissing, Jaebum’s hands sliding up Jinyoung’s body again but underneath his shirt this time, finally allowed to feel the miles of skin the younger boy’s been hiding from him all these years. Jinyoung is breathing harder now, kisses getting more desperate, and they break apart only when Jinyoung sits up to pull his shirt off over his head but then he’s back to Jaebum’s mouth immediately, devouring it.

Jinyoung moans quietly when Jaebum runs his hands up Jinyoung’s bare back, goosebumps under his fingers, Jinyoung’s skin so warm and pleasant and soft. The thigh Jinyoung has between his leg shifts, pressing into his groin and Jaebum groans into Jinyoung’s mouth, nails digging into Jinyoung’s back. Jinyoung gets one hand under Jaebum’s shirt, tugging it impatiently, and they work together to get Jaebum’s dark t-shirt up and off before they’re kissing again. Their stomachs slide together now, skin on skin, and Jaebum’s glad his eyes are closed because he’s sure they’d be rolling back at the contact. He can feel where Jinyoung’s stomach brushes his with every labored breath, both of them fully hard now and every slow roll of Jinyoung’s hips into his sends his synapses firing. Jinyoung’s mouth moves away, trailing kisses along his cheek to his jaw and Jaebum moans when he grazes it with his teeth. His hips roll up into Jinyoung’s and they moan in unison, Jinyoung’s forehead dropping to his shoulder. Jinyoung’s thighs squeeze together around where he’s half rutting against Jaebum’s leg and half rutting against his groin, his back bowed and his ass up and so perfect in his jeans that Jaebum has to look away before he gets out of control. 

Jinyoung’s mouth finds his ear, and Jaebum’s hands slip up Jinyoung’s back when he pulls his piercings into his mouth and rolls them along his tongue. He shudders all the way down to his bones, not meaning to speak but the words ripping out of them like Jinyoung is pulling them on a fishhook.

“I love you,” he gasps, Jinyoung shuddering when he slides his hands back down to the dip in Jinyoung’s lower back. “I love you, I’m sorry, I love you––”

“Don’t be sorry, I love you, you know I do, I always have,” Jinyoung pants, leaning up away from his ear to catch his mouth in a kiss again. Their lips are swollen, Jinyoung’s looking so pretty and thick and wet, sliding against his perfectly, and Jaebum wonders if it was always meant to be this way: the two of them, kissing desperately in a rain darkened room, confessing like criminals. The heartache of years turns into hope turns into happiness, Jinyoung’s mouth curving in a smile against his, their hips slotted together and fitting like the last two pieces of a puzzle.  
  
They kiss forever, until their lips are sore and swollen, exploring each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths like they should have been doing for the past seven years. Words slip out of their mouths on moans and sighs and snatched breaths, all the _I’m sorry’_ s and _I love you_ ’s and _it’s never been anybody but you_ ’s that they could have been saying all this time, but were too caught up and afraid to do so. Their touches linger, skin on skin, sweat making their bodies slick and the feeling sweeter when Jaebum enters him on the bed, Jinyoung underneath him now but his arms locked around Jaebum’s neck like he’ll drown if he lets go. Every moan is an admission, every heartbeat a confession, every touch a promise; they come apart in each other’s arms and then mold back together as one person; one heart in two bodies, one soul dug up and replanted in two chests so that the love that blooms is sweeter and brighter than any other garden on earth.


End file.
